


Court of Miracles

by akitcougar



Series: We are the heroes (of our time) [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: And now references to both Dumas hits (Three Musketeers and Count of Monte Cristo), Gen, Les Miserables - Freeform, So many French classics in this series, We got Hunchback, like seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4279023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akitcougar/pseuds/akitcougar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Moral wounds have this peculiarity - they may be hidden, but they never close; always painful, always ready to bleed when touched, they remain fresh and open in the heart.”<br/>- <i>The Count of Monte Cristo</i> by Alexandre Dumas</p><p>Dante Edwards wants to believe in heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Court of Miracles

_June 2008_

Dante leaned back against the rooftop entrance, joint in hand, staring at the stars. It wasn't often that a power outage blacked out most of Hartford, but tonight, for once, he and his friends could smoke under the Milky Way.

“So, D-man,” Stoner Luke said, rolling a joint for Natasha. His tightly curled hair was pulled back and barely held together by a hair tie. “Bastion, huh? Why not Tauren or one of the others?”

“I want to make my mom proud,” Dante shrugged. “And Bastion is regular money. Rat Hunter isn't.”

“Awh, lookit! D-man being all sentimental,” Drunk Luke said, slurring his words and taking yet another swig from his fifth bottle. Droplets of beer dripped from his patchy teenage beard.

Natasha rolled her eyes, taking her joint from Stoner Luke. “Where did _you_ learn a big word like 'sentimental'?” Her long hair was straightened and perfect. She usually spent at least a half hour on it each day.

“Hey, I got an 'A' from Teach!”

“Teach gives everyone an 'A', Luke,” Dante said.

“What's your power then, D-man?” Stoner Luke asked, taking a drag from his own joint. “You gotta have an awesome power for Bastion to take you.”

“Come on, man,” Drunk Luke said. “Bastion Hartford? Awesome power? We got lizard man and wind bitch. That doesn't exactly scream awesome to you, does it?”

“Yeah, but D-man's better than all that, right D-man?”

“I don't know,” Dante said. “It's okay, I guess.” Across the roof was a rat scurrying around. He pointed it out to his friends, and he flicked the stub of his joint at it. It hit the rat's head, sending the rodent bolting away.

“Duuuuuuude, that's fucking awesome!” Stoner Luke said, grinning like an idiot. “What else can it do?”

“That's it, dude,” Dante said. “I throw a thing. I hit the other thing.”

“Woah,” Luke said.

Drunk Luke and Natasha had started making out, as usual. Stoner Luke and Dante lay back on the roof to watch the stars and ignore their groping friends.

“So, what're you gonna pick as your name?”

“Dunno,” Dante said. “Bastion helps pick it, ever since that one kid in Brooklyn called himself Motherchucker.”

“Hah, remember, you gotta pick something memorable, D-man. Motherchucker ain't got shit on whatever you're gonna be.”

“Don't worry, Luke. I promise.”

\-----

Bastion Hartford was in an ugly brick building in downtown Hartford. Not that there was much of a downtown, since most people who weren't capes or poor had moved away to the suburbs.

Dante had arrived at eight in the morning. He wasn't supposed to get there until ten, but he couldn't really sleep well when his brother decided it would be a great idea to write the next rock hit at seven a.m. An hour and a half had passed, during which he'd literally read the same old cape magazine cover to cover twice while sitting in the Bastion lobby.

The secretary, dressed in an outfit that would make any other teenage boy stare, had taken his name and said she'd call Komodo down. So far, she'd called her boyfriend, her mother, and her other boyfriend.

Halfway through Dante's next read of the cape magazine, this time analyzing the cartoons to the degree only a bored teenager could, the “Bastion Only” door banged open, and the lizard man himself walked out, papers flying off the clipboard in his black-scaled hand.

“Sorry I'm late,” Komodo said. “Sarah dumped last minute paperwork on me and insisted it get done.” He held out his hand. “Jack Hsu, acting captain of Bastion Hartford until Prime gets off their asses and picks Sarah. I don't want the job. Too much pretending and posturing bullshit. Anyway, aren't there supposed to be two of you?”

“Uh, I don't know?” Dante said, standing and shaking the tall Asian man's hand, pulling back quickly from the unsettling feeling of the scales. He had no idea what to think of Komodo. “I was just told to show up here and all.”

“Right. Of course.” He pulled a radio off his belt and hit the talk button. “Sarah, next time we get Sidekicks, I'm writing the letters.”

“ _It's my job, Hsu_ ,” the radio crackled. “ _They here yet?_ ”

“I got one. Other is–“

A Latino teenager waltzed through the door. His shirt was unbuttoned and his jeans rumpled. “Sorry I'm late. Spent the night with the most unbe- _liev_ -able shapechanger.” He ran his fingers through his black hair, tidying it up to make the mess look purposeful and less like bedhead. “Alejandro Luis Montero Ortega, at your service. Call me Jandro.”

“Cool it, hotshot. You're only sixteen,” Komodo said unfazed, checking something off his clipboard. “So you're Dante Edwards, right?” he asked, pointing at Dante with his pen. “'Now I'd like someone to tell me there is no drama in real life!'”

“Um, there's no drama in real life?” Dante said, entirely confused.

“Ah, not a _Monte Cristo_ fan, then. Alright, boys, I'll take you on a tour.”

“ _Hsu, are they here? You're behind schedule._ ”

Komodo sighed and pressed the 'talk' button on the radio. “Sarah, this is the reason you don't schedule every goddamn minute. I'm bringing them up.”

“ _Fine. Since you're late, ask them about their powers on the way up._ ”

“You heard her,” Komodo said, trying very hard to not roll his eyes, leading them into the 'Bastion Only' part of the building. “What's your power, Monte Cristo?”

Dante looked over at Jandro before realizing the hero was talking to him. “I, uh, I throw things.”

“Great, the gringo can throw things,” Jandro deadpanned. “How descriptive.”

“Want to explain any further, Dante?” Komodo asked, ignoring Jandro.

“I'm really accurate? I don't really know how to describe it better, sir.”

“I'm not a 'sir', kid. Call me Komodo, if you don't want to call me Jack. Only Sarah can call me Hsu. So, hotshot, what's your power?”

“Like you said, Jack,” Jandro grinned. “Hotshot about describes it.”

In the middle of the hallway, Jandro's arms caught on fire, making Dante jump back. Jandro just laughed as his arms burned, his clothes not even getting singed.

“Oh for fuck's sake, cool it, hotshot,” Komodo said. “Don't set off any alarms in the building. It just makes a mess for me to deal with.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the teen said as the flames dissipated, his clothes perfectly fine.

“Definitely getting assigned to Sarah,” Komodo grumbled. “Sarah! Get out here and meet the sidekicks!”

“That's Bastion Hartford Junior Division, Hsu!”

Jandro snickered as the formidable Windsong stepped out wearing her full green and white costume, minus the mask. Her light brown hair and grey cape billowed in a nonexistent breeze.

“Doesn't that qualify as a 'gross misuse of allohuman power', Sarah?” Komodo asked.

“I'm making an impression, Hsu,” Windsong said, oblivious to the sarcasm. “It does not qualify.”

Jandro leaned in towards Dante. “Saying it aloud ruins the impression,” he whispered.

Dante covered his mouth to prevent himself from breaking out into laughter.

Not hearing the exchange, Windsong continued. “What are their powers?”

“Hotshot over there is a pyrokinetic,” Komodo said, pointing to Jandro with his pen. “And Monte Cristo is a projectile probability manipulator.”

“Funny, Hsu. Which is which? I didn't reread the bios.”

“You didn't go over paperwork a third time, Sarah? For shame! Hotshot is Alejandro, Monte Cristo is Dante.”

“And, of course, you already picked their names without any regard to regulation.”

“And assigned Hotshot to you,” Komodo said with a cheeky grin on his face. “Since regulation, of course, states that no two pyrokinetics can be paired up.”

“Regulation does not say that!”

“Prove it.”

“I have a feeling these two fight a lot,” Jandro whispered again. “Do you think the break room has popcorn? This is a pretty good show.”

“You know, I wouldn't be surprised.”

* * *

  _July 2008_

Dante quickly learned that patrols were randomly assigned and boring as hell. Windsong believed in being unpredictable, so much so that her unpredictability in assigning schedules grew predictable.

He'd been given the name 'Musketeer', since Stefani the secretary pointed out he couldn't be named after a sandwich.

Musketeer and Komodo were out in full costume, Komodo in his black fatigues and Dante in thestandard issue green and gold Bastion costume that he would use until someone decided he needed an actual costume. They'd just sent some of Tauren's gang members running away.

“Hey, Komodo, I got a question.”

“Huh? Yeah, what?”

“Why don't we, you know, catch them? Aren't we supposed to do that?”

“You been listening to Windsong again?”

“No...”

Komodo led Dante up a fire escape onto a nearby rooftop. He sat the teen down to talk. Though most of his face was covered with cloth, his dark eyes still seemed to pierce through Dante. “What's bugging you?”

Dante squirmed. “My neighbor was robbed. It was a cape.”

Komodo sighed. “We can't protect everyone. It sucks, I know, but we do our best.” He put a hand on Dante's shoulder. “If we were Prime, or even police, we could do more, but we don't have the people.”

“It isn't fucking fair!”

“Yeah, it isn't.”

“Why can't we do more?!”

“Where would you be if you didn't have Bastion?”

Dante paused. “What?”

Komodo repeated the question, fixing him with a stare.

“I'd... I'd be in Tauren's gang, or Rat Hunter's. Well, more likely Rat Hunter's.” Tauren was very picky about what type of capes could join.

“Exactly.” Komodo stood up. “A lot of them are just kids like you, D. We only bring in the dangerous ones. Try to keep that in mind.”

* * *

  _January 2009_

“Holy crap, D-man!” Stoner Luke said. “This place is _clean_.”

“Tasha, how many hits did he take before coming here?” Dante asked, his face in his hands. At least he'd been smart enough to plan the visit for Windsong's day off.

“Enough that he's super out of it,” she said, her arm around Drunk Luke's waist. Drunk Luke, for once, was actually sober, which meant he was kinda quiet.

“Hey Dante, you invited friends and didn't tell _me_?” Jandro said, walking out of the “Bastion Only” doors into the lobby. “I would have gotten dressed up for them.”

“Jandro, you would have stripped off as many layers as possible,” Dante said, raising his eyebrow at his fellow sidekick.

“Well, I do that anyway,” the Latino teen said. As a demonstration, he stripped off his t-shirt and set it on fire, though it didn't actually burn up. Stoner Luke tried to wolf whistle, but he couldn't because he was laughing.

Dante rolled his eyes, long used to Jandro's antics. “Cut the flames, Hotshot. I'm giving them a tour.”

“Bringing civilians in on our dear captain's day off? That's a security breach!” Jandro said, in a perfect imitation of Windsong's 'rules and regulations' tone. He did, at least, turn off his flames and pulled his shirt on.

“Uh, D-man told us to come today _because_ it's wind bitch's day off,” Drunk Luke spoke up.

“They call you D-man?” Jandro asked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Damn it, Jandro, I know that look,” Dante groaned.

“Well, come along, D-man's friends!” Jandro said in a vaguely mocking tone. “Time for your tour of Bastion Hartford!”

Dante had his hands buried in his face for the rest of the day as Jandro led the 'tour'.

* * *

  _February 2009_

Jandro sat right on top of Dante's paperwork.

“I'm doing stuff, Hotshot,” Dante said without looking up.

“Lighten up, D-man! You're almost as bad as Sarah.”

“I regret bringing my friends around.” He didn't like Jandro using his high school nickname; he didn't have an equivalent embarrassing one to use on Jandro.

“Come on, the Lukes were cute.”

“Are you sure you're talking about the same Lukes I brought around? 'Cause Stoner and Drunk aren't that cute.”

“Alright, if you don't find them cute, what _is_ your type? Petite blonde girls? Or do you fancy a tall, dark, mysterious man like yours truly?”

“None of your business, Jandro. Didn't Sarah dump paperwork on you too?”

“Ungh,” Jandro groaned. “Paperwork is _boring_. Come on, gringo, let's ditch this work and do something fun.”

Dante looked up. “What's your idea of fun?”

“Well, the tour we gave those friends of yours gave me an idea. It involves you, me, a video camera, and a brand new Youtube channel starring Bastion Hartford,” he said.

“Dear God, Sarah is going to kill you.”

“That's exactly the point, my friend.”

* * *

  _March 2009_

“Hey Komodo, can we film you?” Dante asked, poking his head in his mentor's office.

“What for?” Jack asked, not looking up from the paperwork (somehow, Sarah always found yet another regulation that required ever more paperwork; Dante was pretty sure that Prime just threw it all in a shredder).

“Um, the internet?”

Jack raised his eyebrow, still focused on the forms. “Uh-huh. Has Sarah found a rule against it yet?”

“Nope.” Then again, Dante and Jandro had carefully not told her anything about it.

“Go ahead then.”

Dante flashed a thumbs up to Jandro, who was still in the hallway.

“Alright everybody!” Jandro said in his narrating voice, walking into the office. “Today we're introducing you to the one person who actually gives a shit here in Hartford. Wave at the internet folks, Komodo!”

“I don't think I've ever heard you use the word 'folks' before,” Jack said calmly, sitting up in his chair to face the camera. “What do you want me to do, boys?”

Jandro poked Dante, who scrambled in his pocket for the index card. “Well, the internet wants to ask you a couple questions.”

“Shoot.”

“One,” Dante said, reading off the card. “Would you rather fight one hundred duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck?”

“Duck-sized horses,” he replied, unfazed. “Ducks are scary fuckers. Also if they're small you can just kick them.”

“Told you he would pick my answer, D-man.”

“Two,” Dante continued, ignoring Jandro. “Favorite movie of all time?”

“Hunchback of Notre Dame. The Disney one.”

“Oooh, insert a clip of Hellfire with Windsong's face pasted over what's-his-name's face,” Jandro added.

“You are not going to humiliate the captain like that,” Jack said with an expression that was very clearly amused and approving.

“Not going to humiliate me like what?” Windsong said, materializing from the hallway. Both boys jumped in surprise.

Jandro recovered quicker than Dante. “This is our Captain, folks! Wave hi, Captain!” he said brightly.

“Get that out of my face at once, Ortega!” Windsong snapped, pushing the camera out of her face. “This is a government facility; there is confidential information in here!”

Dante made a mental note to get a clip of the 'Hang in There, Baby!' kitten poster that was in Sarah's office. According to Komodo, the old captain had put it in there as a joke.

“Lighten up, Captain,” Jandro said, grinning. “It's all in the name of good fun. And you used the wrong last name again. Say it with me. _Mon-ter-o_ ,” he exaggerated.

“You will not use Bastion equipment for fun!”

“Eh, relax, boss. This is my brother's,”Jandro lied. His hand was covering the Bastion sticker on the camera. Jandro didn't have a brother, a fact Windsong probably didn't care about.

Windsong glared at him and stormed away, her cape sweeping behind her.

“You thinking what I'm thinking, D-man?”

“Youtube gold?”

“Youtube gold.”

* * *

  _October 2009_

The video of Bastion Hartford's dysfunctional office got a million views in less than two weeks. Dante and Jandro continued to make videos, surreptitiously filming Windsong when they got the chance and interviewing an increasingly amused Komodo.

The channel quickly became popular, getting praise for its comedy and “The Office”-like portrayal of Bastion day-to-day life.

Until Dante walked into work one day to see a legal pad, an encyclopedia, and a calculator where his computer used to be.

“No more videos,” Windsong said as she walked past.

* * *

  _April 2010_

“Hey Komodo?” Dante asked, out on patrol in his Musketeer costume. He'd finally gotten a blue- and black-dyed standard costume, but with a fancy faux French military jacket on top.

“What's up, kid?”

“What's going to happen once I graduate Sidekicks?”

Komodo didn't speak for a while. “What do you want to do?”

“I don't know.” He sat down on a nearby fire hydrant. “We just... we don't do much. For fuck's sake, Jandro and I ran a _Youtube channel_ out of the office making fun of how little shit we do. If I went vigilante I could at least _try_ to do something better, but with all the Wayell kids no one likes the vigilantes.”

“I rubbed off too much on you,” his mentor sighed. Komodo leaned against a boarded-up storefront, arms crossed over his chest, expression unreadable. “There's a third way,” he said. Dante couldn't identify what tone his mentor used.

“Huh?”

“You wouldn't be a hero. Not to most people. But to the people that matter? Yeah.”

“Seriously, Komodo, I'm confused here.”

“The gangs.”

Dante frowned. “The gangs?”

“Start one of your own.”

“Komodo, do you know how much shit Windsong would give you if she heard you say that?”

“You're graduating in two months,” he shrugged, ignoring the question. “That should be enough time to figure out the logistics.”

“Komodo...”

“Kid, don't get me wrong. If you went too far on the wrong side, I'd throw your ass in a containment facility myself.” Komodo put a hand on Dante's shoulder. “But there's a place for every type of person, not just heroes and villains. Make one for the kids like yourself.”

* * *

  _May 2010_

Dante's phone rang as he walked out into the rain. Technically he was supposed to turn it off when he was off-duty, but since he couldn't afford an actual phone plan, he used it as a normal phone. Usually, though, his friends texted him instead of calling.

Dante swiped it on when he saw Natasha's caller ID. “What's up, Tasha?”

“Ohgodhe'sbleedinghe'sbleedingwhatdoIdo?!” she frantically blurted out, the phone speaker desperately trying and failing to convey distinct words.

“Fuck. Where?” Dante immediately stopped and turned around, heading straight back to the Bastion building. He had a feeling he would need to be in costume.

“The Lukes' street corner. Please, Dante, I don't know what to do,” she whimpered.

“On my way.”

\-----

“Stay away from me, D-man!” Stoner shouted, holding his hands in front of him to shield his face.

“Stoner, I'm not going to hurt you.”

“I don't want to hurt you!”

Dante palmed a tranquilizer dart with the specially-made Bastion formula just in case. “Luke, I trust you,” he said cautiously.

“You saw how I fucked up Drunk!”

“EMTs said he'll be okay. It was just his arm,” Dante said, trying to calm Stoner down. “It'll mend.”

“I don't want to hurt you, Dante!”

“Show me what you can do.”

Stoner stopped in his hysterics long enough to stare in amazement at Dante. Under Dante's calm stare, though, Stoner gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, tears forcing their way out. Slowly, starting from his arms, his skin turned to dust and rubble, pulling itself together into stone. Stoner turned his whole body to rock, though it moved as fluidly as normal muscle and skin. Tears ran down his cheeks, making obvious trails along dark stone.

“How ironic,” Dante said, borrowing Komodo's sardonic tone. He sighed. “Stoner, it's going to be okay.”

“How!? I'm too old to join Sidekicks, and I'd be a fuck-up in Bastion. I don't want to join Rat Hunter!”

Dante closed his eyes for a moment, dropping the tranq dart onto the ground. Opening them, he started explaining his plan to his oldest friend.

* * *

  _June 2010_

“... And now that they have completed their service in Bastion Hartford Junior Division,” Windsong droned on to the small crowd consisting of one bored reporter, most of Jandro's very large family, and Dante's brother. Drunk Luke (with his right arm in a cast) and Natasha were there as well, and Dante knew where Stoner was. “Dante 'Musketeer' Edwards and Alejandro 'Hotshot' Ortega–“

“Wrong surname!” Jandro called out. His extended family laughed. Apparently it was a regular thing.

“–will now announce their post-graduation plans.”

Jandro stood up and more or less danced over to the podium, entirely changing the order of the Sidekicks graduation on a whim. “ _Gracias_ , Sarah, for your stunning display of sleep-inducing monotone and cultural insensitivity.” That got a laugh from more or less everyone. Jandro flashed them his characteristic smile. “Now, you may all be wondering where the great and handsome Hotshot is headed.”

“Not really, Jandro,” Dante called out, more teasing than cruel.

“No one asked you, Dante,” Jandro replied. “As I was saying, I am applying to different Bastions, but I will continue to work in Hartford until I hear back.”

That was met with applause from his family. Windsong glared at him as she stiffly handed over his official Bastion badge, the chess piece and cape embossed on fake gold. He gave her an over-the-top bow in reply before shaking Komodo's hand and waltzing off the stage.

Then it was Dante's turn. His palms were sweaty as he walked up to the podium. Komodo handed him his own shiny new badge before he spoke, and Dante gave his mentor a nod of thanks.

“Well, I'm not as sure as Jandro is,” he started. “Komodo's heard me wonder about what I should do often enough.”

The small audience chuckled.

Dante took a deep breath before continuing. “But, well, I've learned a lot while I was in the Sidekicks. I learned how Jandro snores loud enough to hear through the walls, and how Sarah has no tolerance for anything resembling fun.”

“That is not true!” Windsong said indignantly before Komodo shushed her. Everyone else laughed.

Dante scratched the back of his head. “I also learned the not so funny stuff. How kids like me and Jandro don't get the chance we got. The ones who join up the gangs, or die trying to be vigilantes. How the whole fucking thing is a complete crapshoot.”

He stared at the gold-ish badge in his hand, turning it over and over. “ _Defendere populos_. 'Protect the people.' It's all one big fucking joke when the people are too scared of us.”

Absolute silence.

He gripped the badge tightly. “If this is what being a hero means, then I don't want to be one.” He threw the badge, flexing his power to make it land dead center in the Bastion seal above the door, burying itself halfway into the wall.

With that, he walked off stage. He kept on walking, right out the doors.

He hoped he would never have to come back.

* * *

  _August 2010_

“You fucker!” Hotshot shouted. “I fucking trusted you!”

Clopin turned, nearly dropping his bag of loot in surprise.

“Want me to deal with him?” Stoner asked, his skin already armored granite.

Clopin shook his head, handing the bag to his second in command instead. He pulled out a pair of knives. Stonertook one last glance at his boss and the Bastion hero before running out of the bank.

Hotshot's arms were blazing hotter than they ever had, but Clopin wasn't moved.

“Did you really think I would have stayed in Bastion?” Clopin said, now that Stoner was gone. “Where no one gave a crap about the people we're supposed to protect?”

“So robbery and assault count as protecting the people, Dante?” Hotshot snapped back. “For fuck's sake, you're lying to yourself, gringo.”

“I assaulted one of the goddamn villains trying to kill my friends. All the money from this is going back to the people who need it!”

“That's what you tell yourself as you take your cut,” Jandro said, his face twisting in rage. “But you just started a war. People are _dying_ because of you! You killed my _mother_!” He sent a sudden fireblast at Dante, who ducked and rolled out of the way, trusting his purple and yellow patchwork costume to block stray embers. The flames hit the flammable curtains at the window of the bank, setting fire to the room.

“I didn't kill anyone!” Dante shouted back, ducking and rolling as Jandro sent fireball after fireball after him.

“She died because of you! Your fucking gang war made Rat Hunter kill my family!”

The room was too hot for Dante to handle now. He backed away, towards the broken window Stoner had jumped out of.

“Jandro, I didn't mean for it to happen,” he said, unease and worry creeping into his voice.

Jandro sent another fireball at him. Dante jumped out the window, catching a tree branch to slow his fall. The building he'd just left was rapidly turning into an inferno.

As he ran away, all he could hear was Jandro's scream of rage.

* * *

  _January 2014_

Clopin sat in the branches of a tree in the park, fiddling with one of his throwing knives. In the past three and a half years, he'd built up a gang to rival Rat Hunter's and Tauren's in size, and his actually helped the people of Hartford. Or, it tried to. It was at least the better of the three gangs. His brightly colored patchwork costume stood out stark against the winter snow.

Then again, the person he was meeting stood out just as much in black battle fatigues.

“It's been a long time,” Komodo said.

“Yeah, well, can't exactly get coffee with an old friend when you're wanted for robbery and arson,” Clopin grinned.

“You've done good, kid,” Komodo said, his face showing only a hint of a smile. “I met a couple of the families you helped with that last bank heist.” His face fell immediately after saying it, and he had a far-away look in his eyes that Clopin recognized.

Clopin frowned. Komodo usually wasn't this upset about his Robin Hood-esque activities. “What's up?” He swung himself down from the branch, landing right in front of his old mentor.

Komodo sighed. “Dante, if you had a chance to do it all over, to avoid all your fuck-ups, would you?”

“Does this have anything to do with the Bonecrusher issue?” The kid had just gotten arrested. Jandro had been the one to bring her in. Apparently Rat Hunter ditched another mercenary bill.

Komodo nodded solemnly. “I hate having a kid behind bars, but what the hell am I supposed to do? Her record is a mile long, and she's not even eighteen! Windsong wants her dead for fuck's sake!”

Dante leveled a stare at him. “Do for her what you couldn't for me.”

His mentor looked up at him, questioning.

“I met her, briefly. She wanted to join my gang for a bit, but I couldn't pay her prices,” Dante explained. “I chose to become a villain. She didn't. Don't let her fall back on that path.”

Komodo sighed again. “Thanks. I'll... I'll do my best.”

“You usually do. How's Jandro?”

“Prime finally got around to his old paperwork, and Commander Solomon wanted him in NYC. You know how Jandro is, though.”

“He didn't take the job.”

“He's putting it off until you're behind bars.”

Dante sighed. “I should get going. You have those patrol routes you promised?”

Komodo tossed a plain USB over, which Dante caught easily. “Thanks,” the younger man said, turning to walk away.

Just before the edge of the park, Dante turned and, as one final flourish, saluted his old mentor. The wind picked up, enveloping Clopin's bright colors in a blanket of white.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Cast:**  
>  Dante Edwards - Musketeer (2008-2010), Clopin (2010-present), thrown projectile manipulation, founder and leader of the Court (a Hartford gang), 16 in 2008, 18 in 2010, 22 in 2014  
> “Stoner” Luke Smith - high school friend of Dante, Stoner (2010-present), turns his skin to stone, second in command of the Court, 15 in 2008, 17 in 2010  
> “Drunk” Luke Vasquez - high school friend of Dante, 17 in 2008  
> Natasha Vasiliyev - high school friend of Dante, 16 in 2008  
> Jack Hsu - Komodo (1995-present), pyrokinesis and scales, head of the Bastion Hartford Junior Division (Sidekicks), mildly obsessed with classic French literature, 28 in 2008, 30 in 2010, 34 in 2014  
> Alejandro Luis Montero Ortega - Hotshot (2008-present), pyrokinesis manifesting along his forearms, 16 in 2008, 18 in 2010  
> Sarah Feller - Windsong (2004-present), wind manipulation, captain of Bastion Hartford, hates fun (but will protest the claim), 20 in 2008, 22 in 2010, 26 in 2014
> 
>    
>  **Inspiration:** Hunchback of Notre Dame (the film), 3 am, my newly returned motivation to draw, that one trashy fake-slashfic I wrote when I couldn’t focus on this (don’t worry, you’ll see it eventually), a short break to write Pokemon fanfiction, elentari7 (as always), the amazing work of SecondSecret (EVERYTHING SHE WRITES IS BEAUTIFUL AND GLORIOUS)


End file.
